The Keeper of the Door eBook

She was lying on her bed, but the blind was up and
the windows wide. She held out her arms to him.

“Nick—­darling!”

“Ever yours to command!” said Nick.
He went to her, stooping while the arms wound round
his neck.

She held him tightly. “Nick,” she
whispered, “is Noel still here?”

“No, darling. Do you want him?”

She drew a sharp breath. “I—­I’m
afraid I—­dodged him a little while ago.
I simply couldn’t meet him just then. Has
he been looking for me? Did he wonder where I
was?”

“Don’t think so,” said Nick.
“He was playing with the kids. He is spending
a couple of nights with the Musgraves, and he brought
Peggy over.”

“And he has gone again?” Faint wonder
sounded in her voice.

“Only temporarily. He wanted to send a
message to someone from the post-office; but he is
coming back—­presumably—­for Peggy.”

“I see.” She was silent for a few
moments, and Nick sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Nick,” she said at length, speaking with
obvious effort, “will he—­will he
be very hurt, do you think, if—­if I don’t
see him to-day?”

“Shouldn’t say so, darling,” said
Nick.

She slipped her hand into his. “I’ve
got to do a lot of thinking, Nick,” she said
rather piteously.

“Can I help?” said Nick.

She shook her head with a quivering smile. “No,
dear. It’s a—­it’s a one-man
job. But, if you don’t mind, tell Noel I’m
rather tired, but I’ll come over to Weir in
the morning. I’m going to tell him everything,”
she ended, squeezing his hand very tightly.

“Quite right, dear,” said Nick.

“Yes, but—­before I tell him—­I
want to—­to write to Max.” Olga’s
voice was very low. “I must put things
right with him first. I must ask him to forgive
me.”

“Forgive you, sweetheart!”

“Yes, for—­for being very unkind to
him.” Olga’s lips quivered again,
and suddenly her eyes were full of tears. “I
feel as if—­as if I’ve been running
into things in the dark, and doing a lot of harm,”
she said. “Of course everything is quite
over—­quite over—­between us.
He will understand that. But I want—­I
want to be friends with him—­if—­he—­will
let me. Nick dear, that’s all. Hadn’t
you better go and have your tea?”

“And leave you to weep?” said Nick, with
his face screwed up. “No, I don’t
think so.”